Perilous Shadows: Book 6 Circles of Light

By E.M. Sinclair

Tika is faced with ever worsening problems in trying to locate the Splintered Kingdom.
Increasingly she despairs of ever reaching the end of this chain of events, and of finding a safe haven for herself and her friends.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E.M. Sinclair
• Release date: Apr 10, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476095240

E.M. Sinclair

From as far back as I can remember, I have always had a feeling that Dragons are real. When you look at a wide sky there is a glimpse from the corner of your eye which must surely be a Dragon whisking past. I always regarded the stories of monstrous fierce Dragons as being completely wrong and I detested stories of St George and his dragon killing tendencies.When I was still a small child my grandfather gave me a copy of Kenneth Grahame's The Reluctant Dragon. It made complete sense to me - a Dragon living in a secluded cave, wanting only peace and quiet to write poetry.

Book preview

Chapter One

Rhaki woke. Again. He was still badly confused. His last memories were of his flight from the Menedula building in Drogoya and the purely evil presence of Cho Petak. Bewildered and afraid, he fled across the sea until he reached the mountains north of Gaharn and Sapphrea. Unbodied as he was, his essence had squeezed down, through crevices in the ice skinned rock. Finally he’d rested, his thoughts whirling in a kaleidoscope of panicked horror until everything vanished into a cloud of black unknowingness.

Rhaki had woken slowly, lazily, and snuggled closer under thick furs. It had taken some time for him to realise that, having no body, he should not be aware of either the sensation of snuggling or of fur covers. He opened eyes he shouldn’t have and saw faint shadows flickering on a rough stone wall a handspan from his face.

‘Thought you’d never wake, and after all my efforts.’

An old voice spoke from somewhere behind him. Cautiously, Rhaki moved onto his back and turned his head, seeking the owner of the voice. He saw a small hearth containing a smouldering fire – the sort of fire that was intended to stay alight for a considerable time. He blinked, and a formless shape drifted between him and that fire.

‘If you are awake, you’d better stir the fire up. There’s still snow outside, the fire mustn’t go out and I can’t do it anymore.’

Rhaki tried to sit up but his limbs felt strange; the wrong size, and definitely not as strong as they should be.

‘Who are you? Where am I?’ His voice was wrong too, lower toned than he remembered.

A chuckle came, Rhaki realised, from the grey shape now hunched beside the fire. Rhaki caught sight of his hands in the dim light and was momentarily distracted by their unfamiliarity. They were broad, with stubby fingers, and white hairs sprouted from several swollen knuckles. Another chuckle pulled his attention back to the shape by the fire.

‘Well, you can’t have everything you know. I found you when I was dream walking. I’ve learned quite a bit about you, more that I wanted to know, truth be told.’

Rhaki shivered. He pushed the furs off his knees and tried to stand. He managed it on the fourth attempt, tottered unsteadily to the fire, and knelt involuntarily. A blackened stick lay in the hearth and he used it to poke the fire.

‘I’ve lived up here for years,’ the voice continued. ‘But when I found you, the idea came to me.’

The fire suddenly flared into a cheerful blaze and Rhaki added a log to it from a stack against the wall.

‘After all this time, I want to see more of this world, before it’s too late. So. You have my body, a selection of my memories relevant to this area, and I – I choose to be free.’

Rhaki raised a trembling hand and rubbed his face, discovering he had a soft beard in the process.

‘But where am I?’

‘Oh this is Drogoya. I found you far across the sea and I’d like to go back there.’

Although the ghostly outline was murky, undefined, Rhaki had the definite impression it was staring at him, intently.

‘Listen carefully. I’m not staying here much longer – I want to be off. There are several caves leading from this one and there is food and fuel to last until the thaw. I’ve left you some maps and books, nothing that will identify me though.’ The chortle of laughter was gleeful. ‘I turned from the Menedula with its Sacrifice, and its Offerings and all their nonsense ages ago. They’ll have listed me as dead if they remember me at all.’

‘Cho Petak is not what he might have seemed.’ Rhaki’s voice was a croak.

‘Huh. Knew that as soon as he arrived. That’s why I came up here. Out of everyone’s way. Well. I think that’s it then. I’ll be off.’

‘But wait.’ Rhaki was seized with panic. ‘Can’t I use your name, if you’ve given me your body? And what about any family?’

‘Oh don’t babble so, can’t abide babblers. Never could. Your name is Rhaki, and you know, all too well, who you are and what you’ve done in your long life. I’ve had no family since my ninth summer. You should perhaps think of yours, and what you’ve done with them.’

Rhaki knelt, stunned, as the ghost moved towards a narrow gap in the wall to his left.

‘Oh, a bear or a wolf might turn up. Friends of mine. Shouldn’t hurt you but perhaps you should be a bit wary. And very polite.’

‘But - ’ But the sudden emptiness in the air told Rhaki he was now entirely alone.

He stared into the leaping flames then became aware of a stabbing pain in his feet and ankles under him. He groaned and tried to stand, whimpering as the circulation burned back through his legs. He flexed his feet and shuffled towards the gap through which the ghostly stranger had vanished. As his hand gripped the side of the space, he saw the wall was made of split timbers patchily covered with clay or mud. A length of heavy leather hung across the gap which he pulled aside. He found himself in the entrance to the cave. Logs were piled neatly against the man made wall and a few paces outward he looked out upon snow.

A pale grey sky hung over low peaks and those peaks and the narrow valley ahead of Rhaki were heaped and filled with an endless carpet of snow. To his right, a fir tree stood motionless, its needles hidden, its branches dipping to the ground under its burden of snow and ice. Belatedly he realised his feet were bare and that he wore only a long thin gown. He turned back into the inner cave, hoping he’d find a good supply of sturdy clothes.

His body tingled as he entered the cosy room again and his stomach rumbled when he smelled food. Rhaki discovered a large, lidded clay pot pushed close to the side of the fire. Removing the lid, he sighed with unaccustomed pleasure as the steam rose, bringing the promise of a hot meat stew.

It took Rhaki a few days to settle, into both his new body and his new surroundings. He had never, in his hundreds of years of life, had to do anything so mundane as to prepare food for himself for instance. Once his predecessor’s stew had been eaten, he’d had to concoct meals by trial and error. He found a supply of light stones in a box under the bed and had ventured back into the smaller caves which led from the main room. As he’d been told, he found dried meat, vegetable, grains and nuts stored along with bunches of herbs and more neat stacks of logs.

He wondered about the large amount of supplies until he looked outside on the second day to find nothing but a wall of snow and ice pellets hissing through the air. As far as he could judge time, the storm lasted four days before it abated to a few flakes drifting continuously in front of the cave. He found the cave to be clean and tidy. He guessed the ghost had sorted through every item before making that final move to vacate his body and install Rhaki in his own place.

He found maps as promised and notebooks. He’d hoped the notebooks would give him some insight into the writer, but discovered they held meticulous observations of the immediate vicinity. Here were notes and sketches of plants, birds, and insects, of the different positions of the stars, of the weather. All clearly dated by a system unknown to Rhaki. The records went back year upon year, written in an archaic script but a recognisable form of the common tongue of Rhaki’s own lands. He also found, as he’d hoped, a chest full of workmanlike, and warm, clothes.

Rhaki spent those first days becoming adjusted to this body, learning to cook, and skimming the notebooks for any hint of personal references. He made no attempt at all to test his mental powers, fearing that they may have been lost, or were still intact. He couldn’t decide which would be preferable in this strange new life he found himself in.

By the time the storm had eased down, he was moving around more naturally. He was far shorter now than he’d been in his Asatarian form; about average for human he guessed. This body was much older, but lean, still fit and muscled, although he noticed aches in his hands and feet at odd moments. Rhaki abandoned the notebooks for now and spent most of his time studying the maps he’d been left. They were incredibly detailed and he believed they were probably more accurate than most maps he’d ever seen before.

One map showed his present location, with the cave marked in the very centre. Rhaki saw there was a group of seven tiny buildings beyond the end of the valley which stretched from the front of the cave. It looked as if the buildings occupied a small clearing, perhaps a tiny community existing on a few crops supplemented by hunting, but certainly not large enough to merit the name of a village.

Gradually Rhaki became used to this life, so very different from anything he’d experienced before. He grew accustomed to the sounds the wind made, whistling and roaring, and to the days and nights of silence when the wind died and then the only sound outside was the creak and groan of the fir beside the cave. He heard no birdsong, and saw nothing living, just the frozen snow which glittered and glared under the occasional sun, and winked and sparkled beneath a waxing moon.

But he woke one morning to something different. He lay among the furs and listened. Then he realised he could hear dripping. He’d lived so long in the Northern Stronghold, a place where spring rarely ventured, that it took him a moment to understand the noise. He dressed, stirred the fire up to a blaze and hurried to peer outside. There was little difference to see yet, just a hint of green needles showing through the snow on the tree, but the air smelled different. There was a bitter tang to it, a hint of cold earth.

So the days passed and Rhaki became aware one evening, when the wind howled once more outside his cave, that he was content, more content than he’d ever been. He’d found a growing comfort in studying the notebooks, reading of where the earliest flowers might bloom, the first birds might fly overhead to their breeding grounds even further north, and when the small rodents first emerged from their winter sleep.

Now, for the first time, he wondered if his powers remained with him. It was so many centuries since those first lessons, but he decided he should make this new attempt in touching his power by using the simple basic steps he’d been instructed in. Staring into the fire, he concentrated, pulling the net of his mind close around him. He would attempt a far seeing, try to view those clustered buildings beyond the valley’s end. He released a tendril of focused power out, towards the cave entrance.

Rhaki felt a brief spasm of pain, like using an arm for the first time after it had been broken. Then he was over the snowy landscape, entranced by the brilliant stars above and the glitter on the snow below. He realised he would need to practise these long disused skills as he felt his body shudder, back beside the hearth in the cave. Rhaki released his hold on the power and his awareness crashed back.

He felt as though an explosion had ripped through his skull even as he toppled off the stool and lay gasping on the floor. But he grinned. He could still reach out to the power and feel it respond to his call. Rhaki heaved himself upright and swung the pot over the fire to boil water for some tea. But this time, he must decide which path he would choose in the using of his power.

Only a few leagues south of Rhaki’s cave, but many more leagues west, the Oblaka complex was slowly being rebuilt. Most buildings had been destroyed totally by Cho Petak. During the harsh winter of the north western coast, the survivors of those attacks and the refugees who’d trickled in, sheltered in the labyrinths below ground. Since Tika and her company arrived eight days earlier, the spring weather had been beaten back by a furious renewed onslaught of winter.

The Dragons had squeezed themselves as far as they could into the cave beyond a ledge which had been widened when Kadi had first arrived. Braziers had been brought to try to alleviate the worst of the chill, although the Dragons made no complaint. The old Observer, Babach had told them that the weather would begin to improve the very next day, and Tika sincerely hoped he would be proved right.

She was sick of tunnels and caves although she had to admit, at least there were very few stairs in this place. She’d grown to detest the mighty staircases within the Karmazen Palace. At least the enforced rest inside the Oblaka complex had allowed her to regain some of the weight she’d lost and she had to admit to feeling a great deal better. During these days, she had listened rather than talked. She was worried by the fact that Finn Rah and her people appeared to know nothing of the Splintered Kingdom, or of Namolos, or the danger that an outside power was presently threatening them with. Tika’s name was known among the Oblakan community but she said nothing at all of Kelshan or the Dark Realm.

Sergeant Essa’s towering presence was explained by vague reference to the fact that she came from one of the tribes on the southern continent. Shivan’s gold eyes, once noticed, were similarly dismissed as the result of mage training among those same tribes. Finn Rah seemed unconcerned about such matters; all her concern was focused on Drogoya, the devastation of the land and the people. Once Tika understood this, she made no mention of her own reasons for being here.

There was little chance to discuss this turn of events with her people because they were always surrounded by members of the Oblakan community. It was a relief therefore, when Babach’s prediction was proved correct and the weather became almost balmy overnight.

Mena, the child stolen from a Lord of Sapphrea and held in enormous regard by the Oblakans, appeared wary of Tika. Tika had sensed instantly that the girl who she’d met only briefly in Sapphrea, had a considerable amount of power at her command. She also knew that Mena’s power was but a minute fraction compared to her own abilities. Tika felt there was a sort of local definition to Mena’s strength: if the girl returned to Sapphrea, Tika suspected her powers would be greatly diminished, although how or why that should be, she couldn’t work out.

It was with a feeling almost of escape on the afternoon of the ninth day that many left the caves to wander above ground. Tika and her companions walked away from the ruined buildings and reached the cliffs which overlooked the sea to the west and the empty town of Oblaka to the south. The breeze was gentle at last and the sun was warm. Storm and Brin had gone down to the beach, Kija and Kadi reclined against a half fallen wall and basked. Farn paced steadily at Tika’s side.

By unspoken consent, they sat along the cliff top, well out of earshot of anyone. Shea was the first to speak.

‘I wish Gossamer was here.’

Tika was surprised by the remark but Shea continued.

‘You know I’ve been exploring everywhere – no one seemed to mind where I went. But there was one room that I went in and that girl Mena told me off. She said I had no right to be there.’

Farn’s eyes began to whir a deeper blue and Tika rested a hand against his chest.

‘Mena told you off?’ she asked incredulously.

Shea nodded, glancing back towards the ruins.

‘But was there anything particular about the room – maybe it was her own, her private place?’

Shea’s short dark curls, so like Tika’s own, tossed as she shook her head.

‘It was empty. No furniture. Nothing. Just the painting all around the walls, like in The Bear’s den.’

Sergeant Essa’s filed teeth gleamed pale purple when she grinned. ‘You show me this room Shea. No one tells ME off.’

‘Not even the Sword Master?’ teased Corim.

Essa’s grin widened into a leer. ‘He wouldn’t dare.’

‘Do you mean the painting was exactly the same?’ Tika asked.

Shea frowned in thought. ‘Not exactly the same, but there are Dragons on it. The Bear’s picture showed hunters, and people being buried and things. I didn’t have long to look at it, but it had a man in several places, planting trees, and fields, all in straight lines.’

‘Sedka.’ Ren identified for them. ‘He is said to have founded the Menedula and the rule of the Sacrifice.’ He glanced from face to face. ‘I’m sorry Tika, but I feel out of place here. No,’ he added hurriedly. ‘Not with all of you. Finn Rah and Babach and the others. They are worried about all the people: I quite understand that. You know I’ve been worried too. But they seem locked in only the troubles here, they have no thought of any wider worries.

‘Babach has told them much of what happened in the Northern Stronghold. Mena told them more than enough about her experiences in the Menedula with Cho Petak, yet all that seems to have no effect on their thinking. I find it hard to believe that Babach, at least, hasn’t seen the connections of all these separate horrors.’

‘Perhaps you’ve travelled too far Ren, seen too much more of this world,’ Tika said in an attempt to offer some comfort to his obvious distress.

He sighed. ‘Maybe. But I cannot stay here as it is now.’

Brown silvered eyes met green silvered eyes.

‘My path lies with you now. Completely.’

Tika let a small silence fall then she spoke on a different subject. ‘This painting Shea saw – do you know of it?’

Ren shook his head. ‘Never heard of its like. You say there is a picture in the village you stayed at?’

‘Essa’s village. A huge painting, all round the room. And the other tribes have similar pictures.’

Sket gave Ren a quick glance then went back to tugging up pieces of the short, salt burnt turf. ‘What do you reckon of that child then, Ren? I get the feeling she’s the chief here – makes all the decisions.’

Ren looked very uncomfortable. ‘Finn’s made it clear to me that they believe her to be Myata reborn. Sedka’s daughter, the woman who established the Oblaka in opposition to her father’s rigid beliefs.’

Sket frowned. ‘Pretty important then huh? I remember her, not so long ago, as a fairly unpleasant child.’

Tika gave him a warning poke with the toe of her boot. ‘I’d like Shea to take us to look at this picture when we go back inside.’

‘Mena might have concealed it. She has sufficient power to work a minor illusion,’ Shivan put in.

Heads turned in his direction and he gave a slightly guilty shrug. Khosa jumped onto his knee and regarded him closely. She looked over her shoulder at Tika but everyone heard her mind voice.

‘I thought he was going to be really careful with his experiments?’

‘Well I was.’ Shivan defended himself against the amused faces of the company. ‘Her mental defences are minimal.’

Tika continued to study him: she had a feeling there was more. Shivan cleared his throat.

‘We thought Namolos was somewhere out there.’ He waved towards the sea in front of them. ‘So I’ve been puzzling how we could deal with something under Dark knows how much water.’ His audience was listening intently now. ‘But he’s not there. He’s somewhere inland, and that thing with him.’

Tika glared at him now. ‘You sought them out? Without bothering to warn me what you were doing?’

Shivan ducked his head in embarrassed apology and missed Tika’s scowl changing to a smile.

‘Well, I’m quite glad they’ve moved. I admit to being a bit bothered by the thought, as you said, of all that water.’

Sket snorted. ‘Scared witless more like.’ He looked around. ‘Can any of you lot swim?’

When two of the ex Kelshan guards raised their hands, Sket glared at them.

‘Only fools mess about on or in large amounts of water,’ was his only comment.

Tika got to her feet, rubbing the seat of her trousers: the ground was still far too wet to sit on. ‘I think we will leave tomorrow then, no matter if the weather turns again, and we will go east.’

‘Will we ask the Dragons to carry us or will we march?’ asked Sergeant Essa.

‘They have horses here,’ Kazbeck volunteered. ‘There’s a nice old fellow I’ve got talking to. He’s not happy here but he looks after various animals that have been brought in. From some things he’s said, I reckon he’s got more horses tucked away than he lets on, maybe hidden down in that town.’

‘Horses might be the best idea,’ Tika agreed, although not happily. Her few ventures on the back of such creatures had not left good memories.

‘We can go down a path just along here, or there is another way through the caves,’ Kazbeck suggested.

‘Lead on,’ Tika laughed. ‘Let’s stay outside a bit longer now we’ve got the chance shall we?’

Tika wasn’t so sure this was a good idea when she saw what Kazbeck had called a path. A track wide enough for one foot at a time, she thought, and if your feet were the size of Essa’s, barely manageable at all. But Essa apparently found no problem and strode down the side of the cliff as nonchalantly as Khosa. Farn simply glided down and watched Tika’s descent with great amusement, although fortunately he was tactful enough to make no comment.

They found themselves about halfway between the cliff top and the outermost houses of the town. A herd of goats, their cries uncannily like laughter, watched them from a distance where they foraged under the supervision of a couple of young children. Large boulders were strewn across the escarpment like great marbles tossed from a giant’s hand. Picking their way between them, they came upon picket lines where perhaps twenty horses were tied. A large stout figure approached and Kazbeck muttered his name to Tika.

‘That’s Volk, the man I spoke of.’

Tika ignored the man for the moment, intent on Sergeant Essa. The huge woman had stopped, her back stiff, her hand on the hilt of one of her several knives. Tika moved closer, touching Essa’s left arm.

‘What is it Essa? What’s wrong?’

She saw Essa’s nostrils expand, her pale blue eyes narrow. ‘He’s a Bear.’

Tika looked more closely at the man who was now nearly upon them. He had a shambling gait and was heavily bearded but Tika wasn’t entirely sure what Essa meant. Did she recognise this man as someone from her own Bear tribe, thousands of leagues to the south? The man had halted a few paces away and leaned against one of the boulders. Dark brown eyes examined Tika as closely as she was studying him. Then his gaze flicked over the rest of Tika’s company and he nodded in recognition to Kazbeck.

‘Your friend there says you ain’t Kooshak.’ His voice was a soft rumble. ‘Not from these parts, he says.’

Tika, Sket very close at her shoulder, moved nearer.

‘No we aren’t. But we need to move east. Kazbeck says you may have a few horses to spare?’

Volk scratched his bearded chin. ‘Might have. I’ll be leaving tomorrow meself, Guess east would suit as well as any other direction. Going anywhere particular?’

Shivan moved out of the group of guards and watched Volk take note of his gold eyes. ‘We search for an evil that is loose. Not just in this land as they seem to think.’ He jerked his head towards the cliffs.

Volk spat on the ground by his foot. ‘They know nothing.’ His tone was full of contempt. ‘I think you might, though.’ He gave the companions an appraising look and pushed away from the boulder. ‘I’ll see what horses I might be able to – find.’ He grinned, revealing very white, square teeth, and pointed down towards the derelict town. ‘See that blue painted house, to the left? I’ll be there come dawn.’

Chapter Two

Tika knew that some of the Drogoyan mage trained had limited abilities to use mind speech. She’d discovered, through her own experience, that she could force her own words into virtually any mind, mage trained or not. But she was careful to speak to the Dragons only on a tightly focused thread directed to each individual, alerting them to her new plans.

It was late afternoon, the sun sinking below the sea, by the time they all returned to the cave complex. There was a crowd of student survivors and refugees crammed into the big common room for the first serving of the evening meal. Shea led the way through passages in which Tika knew she’d have been lost in moments, until at last the girl hesitated.

‘I’m sure it was here.’ She sounded puzzled.

Shivan smiled and concentrated on the left wall. Nothing happened. He turned his attention to the right wall and the stone shivered away, leaving a door sized gap. Tika nodded approval and was the first inside. Ren took a glow stone from his pocket and held it high. As Shea had described, there were many scenes of a solitary man planting crops and guiding regular columns of cattle through gates in fields.

There was a flurry outside in the passage and the child Mena forced her way through, glaring up at Dog when the engineer refused to be pushed out of her way. The glare was turned to Shea, then to Tika. White blonde hair hung straight to her shoulders and violet eyes, surrounded by silver, blazed in anger. A young dark haired boy wriggled in behind her, looking apprehensive.

‘How dare you come in here?’ Mena spat the words, her fists clenched at her sides.

Tika raised an eyebrow. ‘How dare you speak to me in such a manner?’ she returned mildly.

Mena seemed taken aback to be answered in such a way and briefly hesitated.

‘You are strangers here. This is a sacred place, to be used only by those who are worthy.’

Tika laughed aloud. ‘Really? I have seen several other places which are extraordinarily similar to this.’ Well, she thought, she’d seen one anyway. ‘And who exactly judges who is worthy? Please don’t suggest that you, daughter of Hargon, are the one to choose?’

Mena’s face paled. ‘And you are a runaway slave. I could have you imprisoned, or killed.’

The room became icy cold. Tika’s companions stood like statues, hardly daring to draw breath. Tika’s voice was steady but as cool as the temperature.

‘Truly I was slave born, but you can do nothing to me, child. That pendant you wear so boldly, it should not be around your neck. You have no knowledge of what it is and you are unworthy of it.’

‘What’s going on here?’

Finn Rah and Babach came through the overcrowded room, Finn looking angry, Babach worried. Tika turned eyes like green ice to Finn Rah.

‘You misplace your belief and your trust in this child. Your guilt blinds you to her failings.’ She turned back to Mena. ‘That pendant, girl. Tell me what you think it is?’

Mena glanced at Finn and shrugged. ‘It was Myata’s, a magical stone.’

Tika stared at Mena for a moment, then she laughed. ‘A magical stone,’ she repeated.

‘Yes.’ Mena very nearly stamped her foot. ‘Something such as you could never understand.’

Wordlessly, Tika drew her own pendant from beneath her shirt, and hid her surprise. The tiny shape deep within was pulsing in time with Tika’s heartbeat. Mena took a pace nearer and Tika held the glowing pendant out of her reach. Her face was stern.

‘This is not for the likes of you child, no matter what these foolish people have chosen to think.’ Her expression didn’t soften when she looked at Finn Rah. ‘We leave at dawn,’ was all she said, walking past Finn and Babach.

Her company snapped to attention in two lines, between which she passed to the passage beyond. Instead of seeking the rooms they’d been allocated, Tika took them straight to the widened ledge the Dragons used, and they settled there for the rest of the night. The complex was quiet, even the usual crowd in the common room had wandered off to their beds. Tika’s companions understood that she was deep in thought and also still fending off the anger which had risen so fast in the painted room.

Stars pricked the sky beyond the ledge when Babach crept among them. Tika’s face showed no emotion in the faint starlight which reflected back from the silver around Babach’s faded blue eyes.

‘I know,’ he said softly. ‘I fear I have doubted her from the start, but she cured Finn’s illness when she first reached us. Finn is convinced she is Myata reborn.’

Tika sighed. ‘She isn’t. But how you deal with it is your affair. I have far more urgent things to work on. I will say this though – beware. I have seen a far more powerful mind than hers twisted, partly through a belief in its great superiority. I see the beginnings of that with this girl.’

Babach bowed his head. ‘Light bless your journeys my dear.’

Babach had not left them long when both Tika and Shivan gasped, clutching at their heads. Sket and Dog were instantly alert while all five Dragons shifted restlessly where they lay.

‘What is it?’ Sket hissed into Tika’s ear.

She caught his arm, her eyes squeezed shut and her breathing harsh. Sket glanced over at Shivan and saw the Dark Lord was in a similar state.

‘Kija, are they being attacked?’

Kija’s eyes whirred in some agitation. ‘No. But someone used power. In an uncontrolled way – a large burst.’

Cautiously Tika opened her eyes a fraction and drew a steadying breath. ‘I’m all right. It’s gone.’

She met Shivan’s gaze and he nodded. ‘It was from the east.’

‘Namolos?’ Ren asked.

‘I don’t think so, but there was something about it that felt almost familiar.’

Kija spoke to Tika’s mind alone. ‘There was something familiar, small one. I glimpsed the mind signature. It was Rhaki.’

Kadi was much distressed by Mena’s confrontation with Tika. She admitted to Tika that she had grown increasingly concerned by Mena’s attitude to many things within the Oblaka community. The midnight blue Dragon was torn between wanting to travel with her old friend Kija, and feeling that she should remain at the Oblaka. Tika hugged her.

‘Stay for now,’ she told her. ‘But Mena already treats you as a servant doesn’t she? Stay as long as you feel you must Kadi, but no longer.’

Kadi pressed her brow to Tika’s and Tika’s heart ached at the confusion and sorrow she felt within the Dragon.

Just before dawn Kadi helped the other Dragons fly Tika’s company from the Oblaka to the eastern edge of the town. Kadi didn’t wait to watch them leave, returning instead to the ledge in the cliff side. The burly figure of Volk emerged from a nearly intact building. They saw the gleam of his teeth as he grinned.

‘Twelve horses in there,’ he told them. ‘Best I’ve found around here. So who’s riding horses and who’s riding Dragons?’

It was quickly arranged with seven of the company choosing to ride horses, the rest dividing among the Dragons. Tika was faintly surprised that Shivan chose horseback but he just laughed and told her he’d always loved riding. Volk heaved himself onto a solid block of a horse and regarded Tika who still stood beside Farn.

‘Where we off to then?’

Tika chewed her lip. ‘Does anything particular lie in that direction?’

Volk snorted. ‘Only forest for leagues and leagues. Till you get to Syet, the town where the Menedula stands.’

‘Aah. Oh well. Let’s get started then.’

Tika scrambled onto Farn’s back, took Khosa in her travelling sack from Sket, and they lifted into the dawn sky.

Volk led them confidently through the seemingly trackless coniferous forest, which they entered around mid morning. From above, it was impossible to see anyone or anything moving below. Tika was beginning to worry about open space for the Dragons to land in, when the trees parted to reveal a narrow lake in their midst. The sun was high overhead and Shivan had just mind spoken Tika to tell her that Volk wanted a halt beside the further end of the lake.

They found that Volk had packed an amazing amount in the way of supplies for both humans and for horses. Essa eyed the bulging saddle bags and extra packages appreciatively.

‘Travel a lot, do you?’ she asked casually.

He laughed. ‘Aye, quite a bit. Gave it up for a few years to be a tavern keeper. This is the better life though.’

Volk wanted a fairly long halt: he pointed out that the horses had done no work for half a year and they needed to be eased along for a while. Several guards wandered down to the lake’s edge to admire Storm’s fishing expertise, while Konya and Shea poked among the new plant growth. Tika noticed Konya looked brighter than she’d yet seen the elderly healer, and Konya laughed when Tika mentioned the fact.

‘I’ve been inside the Citadel’s infirmary for over fifteen years. It is such a joy to be outside.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Shea agreed with feeling.

Khosa sat in a patch of sunshine and washed herself. ‘I think Essa wants to tell you something,’ she said in Tika’s mind. Turquoise eyes stared unblinkingly and Khosa would say no more.

Tika shrugged and strolled over to where Essa sat with her back to a tree trunk. Pale blue eyes glinted up as Tika stood over her. It was probably the first time she had ever looked down on Sergeant Essa Tika reflected.

‘Are you all right, flying with Brin and Geffal?’ she asked.

Essa nodded. She reached into a shirt pocket and held out a closed fist towards Tika. Intrigued, Tika held her hand under Essa’s. Essa’s fingers opened and a pendant dropped into Tika’s palm. Tika gaped. The pendant Mena had worn, white honey marbled back and clear obsidian front, on a thick gold chain. She focused her gaze and saw the white speck inside was moving and twisting: it had been dormant, motionless, when Mena wore it. Essa’s massive shoulders lifted in a shrug.

‘Didn’t belong with her. You said so,’ she said, as if that was more than enough explanation.

Tika sank down beside her, caught Essa’s hand and placed the pendant in her palm. She watched. The white spark was even more animated. Carefully she folded Essa’s thick fingers over the pendant.

‘It’s yours.’

Essa frowned in surprise, her brows forming one straight line.

‘How can that be?’

Tika touched Essa’s mind gently and showed her what she herself saw, deep within the obsidian. When she withdrew, she was shocked to realise that Essa could still see that moving shape, with no help from her.

They continued through the forest for several days, Volk somehow finding large enough clearings for their halting places without the need for Brin or Storm to search ahead. Tika found these days restful and observed the deepening connection among her company, isolated as they now were. In the Oblaka they had mingled with the students and refugees, but now they were learning to know each other’s characters.

They’d made camp one evening when Ren spoke of the Weights of Balance he had seen in Gaharn. He mentioned that there were said to be similar Weights in the Menedula, but only the Sacrifice and most senior Offerings had been allowed to see them. Shivan was most interested: he had never heard of such things. Tika explained there were Weights in the Northern Stronghold but no one knew who, in the distant past, had made them or for what true purpose. The conversation became general and Tika leaned back against Farn’s chest.

‘It was that stolen Weight that started all our travels,’ Farn murmured in her mind.

‘I was just thinking the same,’ she agreed. ‘But I can’t see any connection with the Crazed One through those Weights. They seem so – precise, and all of his actions seem so chaotic.’

Looking at her company, relaxed and at ease around the cook fire, she caught Volk watching her. She felt no threat from him. She had made no attempt to touch his mind to learn whatever it was he was keeping so well hidden. And there was something, she was sure. Tika’s gaze drifted on and found Essa, apparently arguing amicably with Shea, Darrick and Kazmat over a game of snap-the-rat. But Tika knew Essa kept an unobtrusive watch on Volk: she sensed something about the man too.

Essa wore the pendant she’d stolen from Mena, out of sight beneath her shirt, and Tika was fairly sure no one, other than herself, Sket and the Dragons were aware of the fact. Neither Tika nor Shivan had felt any bursts of power again, which Kija was adamant had borne Rhaki’s mental signature. Sket was long accustomed to Tika’s silences when they flew on Farn’s back. He knew she used the time to mull over many things which bothered her. He was content to watch the land flow by beneath Farn’s wings and leave Tika to her thoughts.

A day later, they’d stopped when the sun was at its height and were scattered along the side of a shallow but wide stream. A piercing shriek came from high overhead and the Dragons pushed themselves up onto their haunches, eyes whirring but showing no aggression. The horses, having grown used to the proximity of Dragons, did not appreciate this new noise and plunged and pulled on their picket lines. An enormous Raven wheeled down to land among the company, most of whom prudently backed a few paces to give her a respectful space.

Hag’s beak gaped, then she strutted towards Tika.

‘To what do we owe the honour of your company, Hag?’

Hag took the words literally and almost purred with pleasure. ‘Just thought I’d visit, my dear,’ she said. ‘Funny place, this though.’

Tika frowned. ‘What do you mean by funny?’

Hag bounced slightly. ‘Most of the people in the whole land are dead.’

Ren gasped and Hag tilted her head to peer at him.

‘A few places, here and there, seem untouched,’ she told him in a kindly tone. ‘But not many.’

‘Hag have you been to the Menedula?’ Tika asked.

‘Menedula? What’s a Menedula?’

‘It’s a great building, made of black stone, further east.’ Ren waved a hand vaguely in that direction.

‘Nothing there.’ Hag was dismissive, then her eyes sparkled and she half spread her wings. ‘Magic north of there. Strong magic.’

Tika stood up, feeling happier once she could look down, a little, on the great bird. ‘Can you tell exactly where?’ she asked.

‘Of course.’

‘Well, would you then, and tell us?’

Hag cackled. ‘Always want me to run errands but always rude.’

‘Hag, I am not rude to you,’ Tika objected, then added, ‘My dear.’

Hag shuffled her feathers and strutted towards Khosa, who spat at her. Hag shrieked with laughter and went back to Tika.

‘You aren’t rude,’ she conceded. ‘I’ll have a look then,’ she ducked her head. ‘Just for you mind. My dear. The magic’s gone from that place you stayed at anyway. I’ll see you soon.’

She pushed up on her powerful legs and rose rapidly, a last shriek ringing down on them.

Again, Tika found Volk watching her. He smiled.

‘You have many friends, lady.’

‘Tika,’ she corrected automatically, but he’d turned back to calm the horses again.

‘How far to that town – where the Menedula is?’ Sket asked Ren that evening.

Ren grinned apologetically. ‘I have no idea. Volk,’ he called across their small camp. ‘How far to Syet?’

‘Four, five days.’

‘Is it still forest around there, or farm land or what?’ Tika asked.

‘Forest was cleared long ago.’ Volk stretched his legs towards the fire. ‘Farm land, pasture, for leagues around. Mostly south of the Menedula though. North is mixed forest, hills, lowish mountains. Hunters and trappers live up north.’

‘No towns north then?’ Sket pressed.

Volk shook his head. ‘People live solitary in the wild places. I used to.’

There was an odd note in his voice Tika couldn’t identify, but he’d clearly said all he intended: he got to his feet and vanished in the dark towards the horse lines.

Two more days of unending forest and at the midday halt, Shivan announced that he wished to go on ahead, to observe the Menedula. Brin’s eyes sparkled and he was in the air, ready to go. Shivan laughed and began to walk away from the company. His body shimmered, a gust of burnt cinnamon scented air blew towards them, and Shivan’s Dragon form lifted gracefully to follow Brin.

Brin had been carrying Essa and Geffal but Geffal was happy enough to ride a horse for a time, and Fedran chose to do so as well so Essa could join Dog on Kija’s back. The other two engineers were being given instruction in small arms use. Essa, and Sket, had been disgusted by the engineers total reliance on their explosive devices. They insisted the engineers learn knife work and at least basic sword skills. Shea had joined in the sword lessons with great enthusiasm. Dog had steadfastly refused any such nonsense, maintaining her leg still gave her unexpected twinges. As Tika had healed Dog’s smashed leg, there was doubt whether her excuses were strictly true. But when Sket and Essa appealed to Tika for her opinion, she just laughed and refused to get involved.

Brin and Shivan arrived back when the company were eating their evening meal. Volk had snared rabbits most evenings, and Kija had brought them a small deer on one occasion. Tika watched Brin and Shivan land at the edge of the firelight. Shivan’s Dragon form dwindled until he was the more usual, slender young man they’d grown used to. She noticed that they had landed quite close to the horses, but those animals made no fuss at the sudden smell of burnt spice.

Brin had fed on their journey back but Shivan was ravenous. They left him to eat his fill before plying him with questions about what he’d seen.

‘It’s not pretty,’ he said eventually. ‘Most of the dead are skeletons now, but there are an awful lot of bones. I used cold fire on the worst places – the steps up to the Menedula building, and in the first hall.’

He raised his hands at Tika’s scowl. ‘I didn’t go right inside. I felt nothing; no life, good or bad. But I didn’t go further. It is a very splendid building. Volcanic rock entirely I think.’

Ren nodded.

‘There was no life at all in the town – we flew over most of it. There were a few hens and goats but only a very few.’

Tika considered Shivan’s report. ‘I’d like to go there anyway. There may be some hint of what Cho Petak did to loose this violence. And maybe we can find the Weights of Balance.’

She wasn’t hopeful about that last. Although the Weights in Gaharn were not hidden away, the Weights in the Stronghold had been well warded. Ren had spent much of his life inside the Menedula and had no idea where the Weights might be. When the company settled for the night, Tika heard some speculation among her guards about the possibility of finding treasure within the ruined town and the mighty Menedula. She listened for a while but realised there was no great greed or enthusiasm behind that speculation. No, she had no need to worry how her guards would behave.

Two more days and they stopped at midday. It had been very hot, even for those riding among the trees. Volk estimated they’d